


Equivocation

by Sree933



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season 5A, Season 5B, Speculation, Spoilers, murder investigation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sree933/pseuds/Sree933
Summary: This contains spoilers for season 5a and speculation for how 5b might continue.*Spoilers**Spoilers**Spoilers*Episode 8 is supposed to pick up immediately after 7 and include a family dinner.This a speculative story that explores some ideas of what might happen after time un-freezes."The commotion of everything was a tangled mess, a giant wave that hit her senses all at once, kicking up sand and swirling water into a primordial mess that obscured up from down. But her brain was sluggish, slow to process everything, as if starting up an old car on a cold morning – each thought a process distinct from others, blinking into existence one at a time. The empty space in front of her. The clatter of shattered glass hitting concrete floor. The sudden tumultuous roar of feet shuffling, voices raising, and the precinct moving itself into high alert.And the empty space before her eyes."
Relationships: Amenadiel & Linda Martin (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Deckstar
Comments: 19
Kudos: 215





	1. Empty Space

The commotion of everything was a tangled mess, a giant wave that hit her senses all at once, kicking up sand and swirling water into a primordial mess that obscured up from down. But her brain was sluggish, slow to process everything, as if starting up an old car on a cold morning – each thought a process distinct from others, blinking into existence one at a time. The empty space in front of her. The clatter of shattered glass hitting concrete floor. The sudden tumultuous roar of feet shuffling, voices raising, and the precinct moving itself into high alert.

And the empty space before her eyes.

A name formed on her lips. “Lucifer?” Chloe whispered, quickly brushing it off as she said it. Instinct trained into her over the last several years on the force propelled her forward and out of the evidence room. Her hand reached for her gun, holstered to her hip, she pulled it out it out, aiming in front of her as she stepped through the doorway.

The bullpen was a thrumming cacophony of organized chaos. A group of officers were advancing on the west corner of the building, guns out and aimed. Another handful were on phones and radios, volleying observations and commands. Chloe walked the room, scanning the scene. Cucuzza stood over a pile of scattered case files. Shattered ceramic and spilled coffee litter the floor by the coffee maker. Several desks were pushed conspicuously away from their homes. The glass wall by the public entrance was now an empty frame. Tempered glass shards blanketed the floor, which was especially impressive given how the double-paned glass was supposed to be bullet proof.

In short, it looked like a hurricane had whipped through the precinct. Chloe knew better. She reholstered her gun and walked over to the Lieutenant who was now barking orders.

It was a few hours later before the precinct had calmed down and the Lieutenant was satisfied enough with the investigation to let anyone go home for the day. A canvas of the building and several viewings of CCTV footage offered no explanation for the sudden outbreak of hell in the precinct. Even though the precinct’s tech team verified there were no malfunctions, the Lieutenant wasn’t entirely convinced the precinct’s surveillance system was operating correctly. The cameras showed a handful of civilians entering the building right before “the situation” (as everyone was calling it), Dr. Linda Martin and Amenadiel included. Neither could be accounted for. Chloe was sure the Lieutenant would just rationalize it away, as she had done many times before – certainly they just left in the immediate commotion and the camera angles were ever so wrong to not catch their exit.

Forensics turned up no shell casings or evidence of a gun discharge – the leading hypothesis for the sudden shattering of the glass wall. No other walls were affected, and there were no signs of gun fire beyond the shattered glass. Perhaps the shattered glass wall was the unlikely result of a chain reaction aligning manufacturing defects with some temperature change: a structural failure. There was no reasonable explanation. Chloe believed she knew better, but she was glad when she was finally dismissed with the order to take a week of leave and to see the precinct psychologist. She understood the unspoken implication: desk duty in a week unless the psychologist signed off on her mental fitness to return to active duty. This Lieutenant took kidnapping seriously.

By the time Officer Garza dropped Chloe off at home, it had been nearly 24 hours since Michael had grabbed her from her home. Understandably, her car was at her apartment not the precinct. Michael hadn’t been considerate enough to kidnap her with her car. Lucifer’s phone went straight to voicemail when she called – something she hadn’t let herself worry about. Dan’s rang, but also went to voicemail. She understood. He left once he saw that she was safe at the precinct and gave a short statement explaining how he found her, implying connections to Pete. He just needed a few days to come to terms with his new knowledge of the celestial. Trixe was going to spend a long weekend with grandma. Chloe and Dan were going to need to talk about the appropriateness of the devil being a regular part of her life. Chloe didn’t want to push the issue today.

Chloe had assured Office Garza she would be fine as she pushed open her apartment door. It hung ajar on its broken frame. She picked her way through the disaster that was her apartment living room and took at seat at the kitchen counter. She pulled her phone out and dialed Lucifer again. No rings. Voicemail again. She hung up and stared at her phone again. She then searched for Linda’s number. Pausing for a moment, she considered the time but dialed anyway. Her phone went straight to voicemail. Chloe considered the possibility that maybe Charlie was asleep and Linda didn’t want to take any chances.

Chloe stared at her phone while rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. With a sigh, she dialed Lucifier again and left a message this time.

“Hey, um..I’m not sure what happened, but I wanted to apologize. It’s dumb. I shouldn’t have let him get into my head. I know how you feel. I’m sorry for pushing you,” Chloe said before pausing. She sighed and continued, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Good night, Lucifier.” She hung up and dropped her phone on the counter.

She surveyed her apartment again, her eyes traveling back to her broken door as she considered her options. With her mind made up, she got up, walked to her room, and grabbed a duffle bag into which she quickly threw some clothes and toiletries.

~~~

“Lucifer?” Chloe called as she stepped out of the elevator into his penthouse.

Her echoed voice answered in response.

Walking past the bar, she threw her bag down and fished out her phone to call him again. As with before, the call went to voicemail. Chloe hung up and shoved her phone into her back pocket.

Surveying the room, Chloe took in the familiar sights of the penthouse. Her eyes came to rest on the piano, its waxed surface a testament to the pride its owner took in it. She walked over to it and let her fingers trail over the keys – their melodious sound punctuating the silence of the room as she gently pressed a few down. Memories of just a few nights before came to mind, and her cheeks warmed in remembrance. Lifting her fingers from the keys, she brought them to her lips where they lingered as she recalled the pressure of Lucifer’s on hers.

She walked away from the piano and up the steps to the bedroom. Reaching out, she swept her hand across the soft fabric of the comforter. She smiled and brought her hand to her neck. Her fingers gently followed the lines of her collarbone and down her chest, tracing the path of Lucifer’s kisses. Her hand froze when she reached the bottom of her sternum. Chloe sighed and walked past the bed to the closet. She ran her hands over the tops of his dress shirts, hanging all perfectly laundered and pressed. Stopping on a crisp white shirt, she pulled the sleeve up and ran the fabric between her fingers. Then she pulled it off the hanger.

~~~

“Children, you know I hate it when you fight,” his dad said as he stepped forward from the blinding light that announced his entrance.

Shock didn’t even begin to describe how Lucifer felt as he emotions peeled backed layer by layer. A part of him, so small that he didn’t want to acknowledge it, was excited and wanted to simp for affection. A bigger part of him felt like a little boy caught trying to steal a cookie out of the cookie jar after being told there were to be no desserts before dinner. Irritation, anger, and unfettered angst ultimately took the lead.

“Dad,” Lucifer snidely spat out.

“Father!” Amenadiel’s reverence opposed Lucifer’s tone.

"Finally, Father, you can see—” Michael gleefully squeaked out before he was silenced as God raised his hand.

"It’s time for a family meeting,” God said, his voice deep, calm, and unnervingly paternal.

"Pass,” Lucifer retorted, but no sooner had the word left his lips was he blinded by the eternal brightness of God’s will.

When his vision cleared, he found that he was no longer standing in the precinct bullpen. The room he now occupied reminded him of a cabin, its walls stacked pine logs. A fire crackled in a cobble stone hearth to his left. In the center stretched a table, with seven place settings and what looked like serving platters heaped with food.

“Amenadiel?” Linda’s voice drew Lucifer’s attention up from the table across the room. Confusion etched her face as she reached for Charlie’s stroller. Amenadiel didn’t immediately respond to her. She looked around her, bewildered, until her eyes met Lucifer’s.

“Whe..Where? Wha..What? My God!” She exclaimed as she tried to make sense of her timeline.

“Unfortunately.” Lucifer said flatly.


	2. The Darkest Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe catches her first case since God stepped foot on Earth.  
> A family dinner continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in this chapter. It really fought me as it was written, but then all the pieces started to fall together. This chapter is nearly twice as long as the first.

“Decker,” Chloe stated as she lifted the phone to her ear.

“We have two bodies and a suspicious MVA that I could use your help with,” Dan informed her. “If you’re ready that is. I know you were just cleared to come back.” His voice was soft, tentatively awaiting her reaction.

A beat. Then another.

“Where?” Her voice was mechanical.

“Point Dume Natural Preserve, Pirates Cove side.”

“I’ll be there.” Chloe asserted before hanging up. Her coffee cup rested on the counter in front of her. She picked it up, took a huge gulp, and then placed the mug in sink.

~~~~

A small figure wearing black skinny jeans and a navy forensics jacket crouched to peer under the front end of a white Range Rover, angling her camera to snap pictures.

“What do we have?” Chloe asked as she approached the vehicle.

“Oh?!” Ella jumped up and whirled around to face her. “You’re back!” She let go of the camera, and it drop down across her chest, swinging to a stop on the strap crossing her shoulder. Practically flying off the ground, Ella lunged forward and wrapped her arms tight around Chloe.

Chloe eeped in surprised but left her arms hanging at her side. “Yeah, I was just released back to duty today. Dr. Clarkson didn’t want me to come back _prematurely._ ” She overemphasized the last word to let it be known that it belonged to Dr. Clarkson, the LAPD authorized psychiatrist she’d been forced to see the last two weeks since Michael kidnapped her.

“You too?!” Ella chirped, letting go of Chloe. “I mean, me too. Dr. Clarkson, real tough guy. By the books guy. He only just released me back to work too,” she rattled on. Picking up the camera with her right hand, she waved her left in the air as she talked. Chloe’s eyes fell to Ella’s shirt – a white Tee dominated by a rainbow T-Rex and some admonishment to be a unicornasaurus.

“How are you? I meant to call and see how you were doing.” Chloe felt a bit guilty. She had been so hung up on her issues that she hadn’t checked on Ella to see how she was dealing with the whole Pete situation.

“Oh, I’m fine. Girl, don’t even worry. I mean you were the one kidnapped.” Ella shrugged her shoulders. Something behind the happy facade of her face suggested she wasn’t really okay. “Shame about Linda, I mean Dr. Martin. I mean, you gotta take that vacay when the opportunity comes up, but let a girl know before you leave. Am I right?” Ella asked, not really noticing whether Chloe was still paying attention.

“Hmm, Oh, Yes.” Chloe nodded in response. A spontaneous trip to Europe with Charlie and Amenadiel, that was the story Chloe and Dan told anyone who inquired about them. The day after her kidnapping, Chloe went over to Linda’s house. Her motivations had been a mix of personal and professional. Dr. Linda Martin was an approved LAPD therapist who could sign off on Chloe’s fitness to return to work, and Dr. Martin was uniquely equipped to be able to help Chloe navigate kidnapping by archangel and the sudden disappearance of her devil boyfriend. Was that what he was? She wasn’t sure. More so though, Chloe was worried when Linda didn’t return her phone calls, worried when her phone kept going straight to voicemail. Amenadiel’s too.

“Maybe I should go too?! I mean, you got to go, and Dr. Linda’s there. Yeah. Ella goes to Europe. But I don’t know that I could do the no phone thing. Would you think there’d be a reasonable international phone plan by now?”

Chloe’s eyes widened and she nodded. She took a step toward the Range Rover, silently hoping Ella would get the hint. Across from her, she could see Dan speaking to a few people gathered on the other side of the police tape, which stretched around a perimeter bisecting the Point Dume Hiking Trail.

Chloe cleared her throat. “So what do we have?” She widened her eyes and nudged her head toward the car.

“Oh, right.” Ella focused and redirected her frantic energy. “Female driver here came south down Cliffside Drive but failed to make the turn to Birdview Avenue. Hopped the curve for a little off-roading until she met an off-road obstacle.” Ella pointed under the Ranger Rover’s front bumper. “Male vic here was the speedbump. If it wasn’t for him, the driver would have Evil Kniveled off the cliff. Hey…,” Ella trailed off and peer around Chloe. “Where’s Lucifer?”

“Seems like a standard MVA. Dan said it seemed suspicious,” ignoring Ella’s question, Chloe responded a bit more curtly than she intended. While Chloe had been eager to bury herself in work, she realized she wasn’t quite ready to contend with the missing pieces of her life. Last time, she thought, last time she was blessed with knowing what was going on. Not this time…

“Oh, mi amiga! It certainly is,” Ella replied pointing with a gloved hand toward a slumped over figure in the car.

Dan stepped next to Chloe, pocking a pad of paper he’d been writing on. Keeping his pen out, he gestured toward the deceased. “Recognize her?” he asked Chloe.

Stepping closer to the car, Chloe craned her neck and studied the figure. Dressed in the standard yoga pants and tank top of the typical LA suburbanite uniform, the woman’s face was puffy and discolored in shades of pink and purple. Her sandy blond hair was pulled into a loose French braid with bangs cut to frame her face. The strands of her bangs fell across eyes swollen shut.

“No. Should I?” Chloe asked.

Pointing his pen at the victim’s neck around which her braid curled, Dan asked, “Are you sure?”

Chloe leaned in closer and made out the faded lines of a tattoo peaking out from the braid: faint brown lines sketched out in the shape of a tree with its roots spread out along her collar bone and its branches and leaves stretching out and fading into stars before disappearing entirely below her jaw. It was a very distinctive tattoo that Chloe knew she had seen before.

“Is that Edmée Kemp? The fitness star who’s behind all those trendy workout video series?”

“The one and only,” Dan quipped.

“Wasn’t she one of the most popular trainers for Physique Bikini, that giant fitness company specializing in the online classes you stream at home?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah, and she was soo motivating. She had this way of pumping you up. At the end of every workout she’d challenge you to ‘remember your roots but reach for the stars!’,” Ella gushed. “She just wrapped on this program mixing yoga and self-defense moves. She called it Namastrong, and it’s supposed to go live on the website next month. For VIP members, you know.”

Dan and Chloe looked at each other and then back at Ella, their eyebrows knitted together.

Ella’s face blossomed red. Seeming to realize their confusion, Ella explained, “After Pete, ya know, I needed something to keep me busy.”

“Okay, but I’m not seeing how this is suspicious. Why did you call homicide in on this?” Chloe asked, directing her attention to Dan.

“Mrs. Kemp here was known for espousing an extremely limited vegan diet, largely because of food allergies,” Dan said. “The diet was a cornerstone of her fitness programs.” 

Shifting her weight from one left to another, Chloe pushed her hands into her back pockets and gave Dan an impatient look. He turned around and fished a pair of gloves out of Ella’s forensics bag and then opened the driver’s door of the car.

“Ella?” he asked, indicating that she should explain.

“Well, cause of death is obvious for our poor man here. Out for an easy hike and then BAM!” She threw her hands up. “He’s a pancake. Mrs. Kemp though, her death had nothing to do with the accident. Do you see the swelling of her eyelids and lips?”

Chloe nodded.

“She went into full anaphylactic shock. My guess is the culprit is that.” She pointed to a tall clear, plastic shaker bottle emblazoned with the logo of her sponsoring company printed in large black block letters. A long metal straw coated with burgundy lipstick protruded from the top, and inside was the remaining sludge of a now melted blended protein drink.

“For someone with such a strict diet and severe allergies, it is a little suspicious that she would eat something she’d react to, but food contamination isn’t uncommon.”

“That’s what I though too, Chloe,” Dan interjected. “But if you have bad allergies to common foods, what do you always make sure you have with you?” he asked.

“You keep an EpiPen with you. Some of Trixie’s friends have really bad peanut allergies. They won’t go anywhere without them.” She leaned into the car, “But I don’t see one.”

Producing an evidence bag with a long white and orange cylinder, Ella said, “That’s because she didn’t have one, but I don’t think she knew that. We found this on the floor wedged under the gas pedal.”

Dan’s phone rang, and he answered it, walking away from the scene.

Taking the bag from Ella, Chloe inspected the item and asked, “What is this then?”

“It’s an auto-injector training device. They are used as part of first aide training classes to familiarize people with how to use an EpiPen. From a distance, they look just like the real deal but without the needle or epinephrine,” Ella explained.

“So someone swapped out her real EpiPen with this training device,” Chloe concluded. Ducking her head into the car, she leaned over Mrs. Kemp’s body and looked at the contents of her cup. “Which means someone may have tampered with her protein shake.”

“I’ll take it back to the lab and processes it to see if we can figure out what caused Mrs. Kemp’s reaction.

“Mmmhmm.” Chloe murmured in acknowledgement. Her eyes scanned the interior of the car. On the passenger seat sat one of those planners that were trendy and popular with stay-at-home moms, suburbanites, and teachers – filled with little flags and highlights of all colors.

“Have you finished processing the interior of the car?” Chloe called out to Ella.

“Yes, I have.”

“Would you hand me some gloves?” she requested, stretching her arm behind her. When they were handed to her, she gloved up and pulled the planner out of the car. She flipped to today’s date and studied her schedule.

Dan hung up his phone and walked to Chloe. “So Mrs. Kemp’s husband is a stand-up comedian doing some shows with a friend out in New York. He’s been notified and making arrangements to fly back. I asked him to come by the station when he lands. We can question him then, but that probably won’t be until tomorrow. There’s a storm moving in on New York, and the airlines are cancelling a bunch of flights. Mr. Kemp was pretty upset, so I don’t like him for this.”

“People can surprise you, Dan.” Chloe replied. “According to Mrs. Kemp’s planner, she had hot yoga with a J. Mendoza at 6 a.m., and she had a lunch meeting scheduled later today with her publicist.”

“There are probably a thousand J. Mendoza’s in LA county. We should start with her publicist.”

“I agree.”

~~~~

Chloe and Dan tracked down Edmée Kemp’s publicist and questioned her but found themselves back at square one. The publicist didn’t have any leads for who J. Mendoza could be and insisted that anything Mrs. Kemp ate would have been prepared by Mrs. Kemp herself. She was so particular about her diet and concerned about her allergies that she didn’t eat anything that she hadn’t personally prepared at home. Ella was still processing the contents of the shaker cup and running it against a list of allergens the publicist had provided. With no leads and little to do until Mrs. Kemp’s husband arrived in LA, Chloe left the station to pick Trixie up from the sitter and go home.

Putting Trixie to bed was a longer ordeal than she had expected. She missed Maze a lot, and Chloe didn’t know what to tell her. She didn’t have answers, and she was reluctant to kill any hope her daughter still had. Besides, she didn’t know where they were, and maybe they would be back tomorrow.

Trixie was ever the mommy’s girl; despite very much growing up, she still required a bedtime story. True, her choice in literature had shifted from _Love You Forever_ and _The Lorax_ to _Harry Potter_ , but Chloe was more than happy to oblige her daughter. In Maze’s absence, her chapter a night had been negotiated into a hard-won three chapters. Maze taught her well.

Chloe found herself sitting at her kitchen counter with a mug of tea an hour later than she had hoped. She was really going to need to work on Trixie’s bedtime. Her daughter wasn’t going to get enough sleep for school.

The room was cold, and she considered turning on the heat or the fireplace, but instead she stood in the muted light of the kitchen watching the steam waft from her tea. Her fingers played with the white tag hanging off the tea-bag string. She flipped it over and read its pithy quote: “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise. Victor Hugo.”

Wishing her darkest night would end, she sighed and remembered the morning nearly two weeks earlier. The morning had been overcast with a thick marine layer that the sun tried to burn through. She had awoken from what had been an uneasy night of tossing and turning. Rolling over on to her side, she had stretched her arm across the empty expanse of bed, the black and white fibers of the fabric soft beneath her fingers, to find the other side empty and cold. She sat up and drew her knees up to her chest, tugging Lucifer’s shirt tighter around her figure, the fabric was also cold, her body insufficient to warm it against the cold emptiness of Lucifer’s bed and penthouse.

He hadn’t come home. Not that night.

Nor did he come home the next night.

On the third night, she stayed at her own apartment. Trixie was tired of her grandma’s, and Chloe’s landlord had finally sent someone to fix her doorframe and replace the front door.

She hadn’t been back to Lux since. Denial was much easier to hold on to if she didn’t confront the emptiness of that penthouse.

A knock at the door stirred her from her thoughts. She left her tea on the counter to open the door.

On the other side stood Dan. Chloe scrunched her face up in confusion. “Trixie’s asleep.”

“I figured,” he said, pausing before continuing. “Still no sign of Lucifer?” Dan asked.

She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s fine. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before. Just disappeared. Maybe he’s in Vegas again, and he’ll back come again with…,” but she couldn’t finish her sentence. She knew this was different. She and Lucifer were different. This wasn’t another Las Vegas panic attack. Not another Candy Morningstar. He wouldn’t do that to her. So she just shrugged her shoulders again.

“You know, Chloe, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you’re upset,” Dan said. He held up a bottle of wine in his hand. “I thought maybe you could use some company. Maybe we can talk. I think I’m ready to talk.”

She nodded and stepped aside, letting her ex-husband in.

~~~~

God pushed his hands into the pockets of his knitted sweater.

“Yes, my son, Michael, I know what you boys have been up to. But, oh, how good it is to see my sons together in the same place!.” A wide smile stretched across God’s face.

“Father, what is it that you require of us?” Amenadiel asked, bowing his head as he spoke in reverence.

“Ah, but to have a family dinner, my son,” God responded as he pulled his hands out of his pockets and placed a gentle hand on Amenadiel’s shoulder. “Come, have a seat,” he directed him by waving his hand in the direction of the table. God walked toward Michael and placed a heavier hand on his back and pushed him toward the table. “You too, my son.” God looked at Lucifer as he spoke, his eyes locking steadily with Lucifer’s.

“As I said before, Dad,” Lucifer sneered, “Pass!” He eyed the perimeter of the room and spied a door. Squaring his shoulders, he strode across the room to the door.

If God noticed, he gave no indication. Instead, he walked past where Michael had stood. Mazekeen stood a few feet away. She snarled and her demon face flickered through her human form. She raised her arm, clenched her fist, and threw a punch at God. Her hand hardly crossed the distance between them before God’s large hand wrapped around her fist and pulled her hand down. God reached out with his other hand and caressed the demon half of her face.

“Mazekeen of the Lilim, loyal friend of my son, please join us for dinner.” She pulled her face away from his hand, and her human face returned. She looked confused, but followed Michael to the table.

God then turned toward Linda and his eyes widened as he chuckled. “And who do we have here?” he asked walking to the stroller. He reached in and pulled out Charlie. Raising him in the air above him, God cooed. Linda stood mute, her face frozen in bewilderment. “Hello my child, I’m grandpa,” God said in the high-pitched voice adults frequently use with babies. He pulled Charlie in and cradled him in his arm. With his free hand he traced a finger across Charlie’s forehead.

Suddenly remembering she had a voice, Linda spoke. “Father. Dad. Grandpa.” Her eyes jumped from Amenadiel, who was now seated at the table, to Lucifer who was reaching for the door, to God who was rocking her son back and forth in his arms. “God?” she whispered.

Lucifer opened the door and stepped through to find himself walking right back into the cabin room. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed.

“Luci, it’s father. Have a seat,” Amenadiel urged.

Lucifer huffed and unceremoniously plopped himself into a chair.

Linda remained standing. “Family dinner?” she asked. “Wh-Why am I here?”

God, still cradling Charlie in his arm, gestured to a chair between Amenadiel and Lucifer. “You know why you’re here, Dr. Linda,” he said before walking to a chair at the head of the table. He took a seat. Giving his free hand to Charlie, who wrapped his hand around God’s index finger, he said, “I hope you are hungry.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfiction is not something I typically write, but I'm having a hard time leaving season 5a behind. This is my attempt to funnel my energy and bide my time until 5b.   
> It's been a while since I've written anything, and this has not been beta-read.


End file.
